He, The Rum Tum Tugger, Could Have Anything
by Disappearance
Summary: Everything is going well for The Rum Tum Tugger until Mistoffelees reminds him not everything is possible. Meanwhile something is distracting Mistoffelees. Rum Tum Tugger/Bombalurina
1. He Couldn't Have Bomba

******Disclaimer: Obviously I do not own 'Cats'. Andrew Lloyd Webber does.  
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**Dedicated to my little brother who was away when I wrote this. If he was here cracking jokes I'd never have been able to finish! **

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The Junkyard was not pleasant in this extreme heat. In fact, it had begun to smell. The only cat brave enough to bear the great blast of the sun (and indeed the stench) was Cassandra, who sat so poised and still that a passing human may have mistaken for a statue. She had seen greater heat waves and she would see greater yet.

Watching her from one of the highest peaks of the junkyard was The Rum Tum Tugger. She acknowledged his watchful gaze with only the briefest of glances and slunk off into the shadows.

The Maine Coon smiled to himself. Was she teasing him? He would have followed her but it was too hot to lift a muscle. Instead, he lay stretched out under a large overhanging branch that did an excellent job of shielding him from the sun. The last thing Tugger wanted was to get sunburn. He couldn't imagine anything worse than raw pink flaky skin. He would rather, as amazing as it seemed, spend a week being ignored than appear outside with a sun-burnt face. Although, if such a traumatic event did happen to him he was sure Mr Mistoffelees could help him out with some spell or potion.

Speaking of which, where was Misto? Tugger carefully scanned the area. It wasn't like the tuxedo cat to disappear completely. Maybe Tugger just couldn't see him from so high up? No, he knew Misto was small but he wasn't _that _small. He was probably inside like the older toms and queens. When Tugger was bored of being adored by the giggling kittens below then he'd go find his friend.

It was a pity the older cats weren't here. He was on his best behaviour. All these years of being scolded for misbehaving or being inconsiderate or cheeky and they were missing him behaving perhaps the best he would ever behave in his lifetime! Typical. Well, it was their loss. Next time he saw them he would pull out all of the stops, be at his absolute worst. They could scold all they liked.

Hang on, why did they scold? It wasn't as if he was a kitten and he was respectful...some of the time. Now that he thought about it, they were just plain rude. How did they expect him to act like Munkustrap when they treated him like Pouncival? It must be jealousy. They were missing their own wild youth.

"Dirty old coots," he chuckled under his breath.

At least the kittens treated him with desire and respect...even if it was, at times, way too overenthusiastic for even him to cope. A small group of them stood beneath him, exchanging excited whispers. Occasionally, Etcetera would dissolve into a fit of uncontrollable hysterics, or they would all pause and look up at him admiringly before returning to their huddle. He had no idea what exactly they were planning but it would no doubt be highly amusing. They were sweet kittens. The young toms weren't too bad either. They would march around with enough of a swagger in their walk to be The Rum Tum Tugger himself and if he gave them so much as a nod, their chests would swell with pride. Tugger could only conclude from everyone's behaviour that they were either madly in love with him or wanted to be him.

That was what real power was. It wasn't having control over many cat minions or having awe-inspiring strength or intelligence. It was about being lusted after and loved by as many cats as possible. _And that, _thought Tugger with a thin lipped smile, _is something I have plenty of._He stared out across the junkyard, surveying his kingdom. He, The Rum Tum Tugger, could have anything he wanted.

Across from him, Bombalurina caught his eye and gave a sly wink. He pursed his lips and ignored her, choosing instead to try and get Demeter's attention. Oh dear, the poor kitty was trying so hard to ignore him. Her eyes stared fixedly ahead of her as she chatted to Bomba.

"Demeter," he purred loudly, "Demeter, Demeter, Demeter."

Eventually, the queen cracked. She turned around, her eyes burning with angry hatred. Unfortunately, her glare never reached the Maine Coon, who was too busy inspecting his paws. He looked up in time, however, to receive a mock angry glare from Bomba, which he gleefully returned. He considered ignoring the heat and leaping down the junk piles to squeeze between their two slim bodies with his own equally impressive one. He'd put his arms around both (at the risk of getting mauled by Demeter) and lick the side of Bomba's face before bounding out of reach.

Bomba was delicious. No... That came out wrong. He didn't mean she was tasty in an edible way; she tasted of cat – obviously – and also strangely of fish. Anyway, that wasn't what he meant. He meant she was saucy, tempting and, like him, perfectly formed. That was what he meant. He liked to see her, to hear her, to smell her, to touch her, to... well, not so much to taste her but he could ignore that. After all, he had never been one for cannibalism. He especially liked waking up in his den and realising it was her next to him (and not just because it meant he hadn't made another terrible mistake or that she wasn't a kitten who had broken in).

Most of all, however, he loved their little games. He would alternatively ignore her or lather attention upon her and she, in turn, would caress him until he could ignore her no longer or tease him. The Rum Tum Tugger did not like her teasing him. He was not some hapless fool like the other toms she showered with her attention. She would deliberately let him see her with other toms, too. It would start with her running her paw up the young tom's leg as she danced. He hated this mostly because it worked. He wouldn't say this to her though. No, he would instead say he was rescuing her. After all, Bomba liked experienced 'dancers'. After that they came to his favourite part of the game – the results. Why? It was always, no matter what, a draw.

The game had started when they were very young kittens. Of course, it was perfectly innocent then. Tugger smiled to himself. Even he found it hard to believe that he and Bomba were once naive and pure minded. It had started with games of tag and other kitten favourites, such as stuck in the mud.

Thinking of that game, in particular, made him wince. Why had no one bothered to explain to him and his brother Munkustrap that when someone really is stuck in mud then walking in-between their legs doesn't help? In fact, it just makes your so-called saver stuck, too. Then you both look like idiots. It had been Bomba who had discovered them, still standing there and arguing about whether or not they should shout for help.

They had shut up as soon as they saw her. All three had stared at each other in silence. Until, that is, Bomba burst out laughing. Eventually, she calmed down enough to ask if they needed any help. Tugger, being the more sensible of the two, had politely informed her that they were not stuck but were in actual fact playing humans and horses, and would she kindly leave.

"So," she had purred to Munkustrap, "do you always ride your horse backwards?"

Before Tugger had time to reply with what would no doubt have been a witty and humorous response, his pathetic brother had told her everything. The next thing he knew, he had been forced into a pool of cold water by Jellylorum. His brother had sat opposite him, glowering.

"I asked him to get help, Jelly, I told him! He was being stupid," Munkustrap had moaned in-between scrubs.

"Don't be a tell tale," the older cat said sternly. "What were you two silly cats doing out there? No, don't struggle, dear, you'll only make it worse. It was very lucky Bomba was there to help."

Said kitten had given a nauseatingly smug smile in Tugger's direction.

"You dare tell anyone about this," he hissed, "and I will pull all of your fur out and tell little Quaxo you love him and want to kiss him!"

The other kitten looked up at him with large sincere eyes and swore she'd never tell a living soul.

To this day, Misto (or Quaxo as he was then known) still thought he'd had a chance with the spicy red queen.

The fur pulling hadn't gone quite so well. In the ensuing struggle, Tugger had lost half his mane and Jellylorum had been given the ideal opportunity to clean up the rest of '_that horrible bird nest'. _The cheek.

There had been one game the pair played on a regular basis. It was called Traffic dodgers. It involved...well, the name said it all. The kittens (or road kill as they liked to call themselves) would take it in turns to run across the road just outside the Junkyard. As the day wore on, the traffic would get busier and more and more kittens would chicken out. Ultimately, the bravest kitten (the one who had successfully crossed the road the most times) was proclaimed champion. The much sought after prize was for all losing kittens to act as your servant for an entire day.

Tugger had been the undisputed champion for most of his kitten life. He had gotten to that immortal stage where the other kittens refused to challenge him for fear of having to, yet again, serve under that masterful tyrant. However, his score had finally been beaten soon before he had become an adult.

It had been a lot of the kittens' last match before they inevitably became boring, mature and sensible. Naturally, all of the kittens had turned up. Even Quaxo, who was of the squeamish nature, showed his face. Munkustrap had been referee.

Tugger still did not quite know what had gone wrong. Personally, he blamed the opposition (Bomba) for distracting him. He had stepped out into what he believed to be an empty road only to be blinded halfway by a pair of unnecessary headlights. Much to Tugger's delight, what followed was a magnificent overreaction.

All as one, the kittens had uttered a massive scream. Munkustrap had suddenly been at his side, taking charge of 'saving' his brothers apparently fast fading life. In reality, The Rum Tum Tugger was only suffering from concussion and a grazed leg. In fact, he hadn't even touched the car. Confused and panicked by the headlights, he had gracefully tripped over his own paws and allowed the car to pass smoothly overhead. However, that was not what the others had seen and Tugger had been more than happy to indulge in their wild grief. After all, it was not every day you heard people shouting you were too wonderful to die (maybe being insanely attractive did give him the right to immortality). The next thing he knew, Skimbleshanks and Asparagus were carrying him to the family den, where he lay in his mock coma for what felt like days (but was really five minutes). When he believed everyone was suitably bereaved and broken hearted he had slowly opened his eyes. With a look that could melt even the fiercest of cats he had asked what all the fuss was about.

As expected, a small, delicate form had thrown themselves upon him and began sobbing into his chest. Tugger had patted Bomba's shaking back and looked around the room. Old Deuteronomy, his father, had been to the right of him, smiling down reassuringly and under his arm had been a tearful Munkustrap (yes, his annoying older brother had truly cried over him). The door had been crowded with a mob of squirming kittens, all of which were straining desperately to get a look at him and on his left had been Jellylorum with a kind arm around a beaming Bomba's shoulders. Then he had felt sick. It was not because he had almost died but because the kitten hugging him to death had not been Bomba, as he had previously expected, but Quaxo. Blast.

The 'harrowing' event had both advantages and disadvantages. The bad news had been that the road was now guarded by at least one responsible cat at all times and that during all the commotion Mungojerrie had beaten his high score by six points.

On the plus side, however, he now had a war wound. It had impressed kittens and caused older queens to mother him and Bomba to lick it better. Now days it was more of an inconvenience as it had become infected. In order to protect his dignity he kept it covered by tying a cloth around the ghastly sight.

Speaking of ghastly sights, another bonus was that his brother had cried. However, in trying to get his brother to admit this he had accidentally exposed the whole charade.

Munkustrap had sighed into his paws then stared Tugger fixedly in the eyes.

"You need to grow up."

The hypocrite. Munkustrap had never grown up. He had been born that way.

He, Tugger, was much more relaxed. Unlike Munkustrap he had never limited himself and was ALWAYS willing to have a laugh. Life wasn't worth living if you spent your entire time being all prissy and neat. This is why open and free Tugger could have anything and stuffy Munkustrap could not.

"No, you couldn't."

Startled out of his daydream, The Rum Tum Tugger yet out a yelp of surprise and almost fell screaming off his perch.

"How long," he hissed at the grinning cat, "have you been there, _Quaxo_?"

"Well, _Tugsy, _that is for me to know and for you to-"

"Yes, I know, for me to find out. But, my magical friend, how can I if you don't tell me?"

"Oh...er...that...makes sense..."

"Yes and..."

"One hour and fifteen minutes and forty-three seconds."

"Exactly?"

"Exactly."

Tugger stared at the tom suspiciously. Of course, he knew Misto was... uniquely talented and he was very accepting of this...no, he was more than accepting – heck, he loved it. Misto was a cool cat. One tiny thing bothered him, however. Could the boy wonder read minds?

"No, I can't."

"What?!?"

"You've been talking out loud...it was weird."

"And spying on me for one hour, fifteen minutes and forty-three seconds isn't?"

"Um, yeah, anyway, you couldn't have anything you wanted."

"And why not?"

"Well, you couldn't have the Junkyard."

"Fair point. I wouldn't want it anyway. Too much responsibility. Old D is welcome to it."

"And you couldn't have Demeter."

"She wants me really," the Maine Coon replied coolly.

Misto rolled his eyes and continued. "And you couldn't have a mate."

"_I _couldn't have a mate," Tugger snorted. What was Misto thinking? Tugger was an idol. He could have any queen (or tom) he pleased.

"Misto, I have people falling head over heels to get a piece of me! Bomba is just dying to have my kittens."

"Ah, but could you have hers?"

"I think you and I, being reasonable _toms,_ both know that this is physically impossible."

He grinned to himself. He would have to repeat that joke to Bomba.

"Actually, I know a spell that –"

"NO! It _is _physically impossible," Tugger cringed.

"Anyway, that's not what I meant. I meant you were not mature enough."

And there was that word. It seemed almost every conversation he had in the last few weeks had ended with that word.

"Hey, that's not a bad thing," Misto said quickly. "A world without The Rum Tum Tugger would be boring!"

Nevertheless, Misto was right. The one thing The Rum Tum Tugger couldn't have was a mate.

He couldn't have Bomba...

And it hurt.

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**Thanks for reading!**  
**This was intended as a one-shot but I have some ideas for future chapters/sequels. If you think it is a bad idea for me to expand on this story please stop me before it's too late.**


	2. You Know, Quaxo, You're Alright

Mistoffelees steadied himself. He had to be calm and charismatic...whilst performing the scariest trick in the history of cat kind. Everyone assumed that that magic came effortlessly to him; they didn't quite understand the amount of hard work he put in to every trick. Of course, the effort was worth it in the end as he wouldn't exchange anything for the looks of wonder on everybody's faces.

However, he had never failed this badly before. It always took him a few tries to get it right but this was just ridiculous.

The first part was simple. He would have each kitten gather a piece of rubbish, which he would then turn into a bunch of flowers. As he was a gentleman he would present them to Cassandra, who would blush gratefully. Then, he would escort his beautiful assistant into a specially prepared box which he would then crush. Very gentlemanly behaviour...

He would then smooth the box out to its original state and open the door and...Hang on, where was Cassandra?

Look left, look right. Look left, look right.

There! Cassandra would be on a large pile of junk. Misto would float her down and they'd both bow.

That was how it was supposed to go. The annoying thing was that he knew he could do it. He could do each individual part of the trick yet once he combined them it became impossible.

Beside him, Cassandra looked on in horror as yet another dummy of her was crushed.

"I'll get it soon, Cass, I promise."

"I hope so or else you'll have to find yourself a new assistant."

"Sorry, Cass."

"Is something distracting you?"

"No," Misto said confidently. There was that little nagging feeling right at the back of his head but he was certain that was nothing. Nothing at all.

The queen turned her head to one side, surveying him intently. "If you're sure," she purred. "I'll see you tomorrow."

With one last worried look at her friend, the queen gracefully leapt away.

"I can do this," Misto said to his paws. "I can do this, I can do this, I can do this."

Misto took a deep soothing breath and stared at the angry, grey sky. The weather had taken a turn for the worse. Just an hour ago the sky above had been a stunning blue but it had now been replaced by dark, swollen clouds.

No one stayed in the Junkyard when it rained. Around him other cats were already running off to their warm, dry human dens. Misto would just practise the trick one more time before he too made a desperate bid to escape getting soaked.

1. Flowers – simple done.

2. Place the dummy in the box.

3. Crush the box.

4. Open box to reveal...it had worked!

5. Now all he had to do was look around and... Yes! There was the dummy exactly where it was supposed to be.

6. He was now in the final stage of the trick. He would float the dummy down and return home. When he got there, he'd have a nice dinner and curl up on his human's cardigan.

Behind him, someone was laughing. Misto's heart sank. He hadn't floated the dummy down...he'd turned it into a cardigan...

"Classic!"

"Shut up, Tugger."

"Hey, relax! What's your problem, kid? That was a brilliant trick."

"That _wasn't _what I wanted to do. The dummy was supposed to fly down," Misto sighed.

"Pfft, that's boring. Stick with the comedy."

"I don't think Cassandra would be too happy about that."

"We all have to make sacrifices," grinned Tugger wickedly. "Come on, kid, home."

Misto actually felt pretty confident now. He had come so close to success today so he was certain that tomorrow would be the day he got it right.

The two cats set off to their human den together. They had been living in this arrangement for a while now. It wasn't meant to last but somehow it did. Tugger's pet humans had taken a shine to Misto after his own humans had run away. Now, the odd pair co-owned a human family of four.

_From a sheltered pipe in the Junkyard, a tiny kitten watched the rainfall. _Why is it, _thought the kitten, _the rain makes everything go dark? And why was rain wet? _He didn't like rain. It got up his nose and made him sneeze. Rain was noisy, too. It clanged and clinged and pinged like a...a...an army of armoured mice running about above him! _Any moment now, _the kitten thought excitedly, _they'll attack the Junkyard!

_"They'll install their mousey Queen as ruler and no cat will be here to stop them...except for the great," the kitten paused as he racked his brain for a cool name for himself, "Mr Mistoffelees! At first they'll say he's just a small, harmless cat and then they'll laugh evilly, like this 'hihihihea'. But then he'll zap them with his amazing magic powers – pow, pow, pow – and they'll all be terrified and run away like scared little queens. When everyone sees what I've done they'll all cheer and...and give me a saucer of milk the size of the moon! I'll be a – AAIIIEYA!"_

Something had just burst into his pipe! It was a mouse monster and it was twice as big as him and had sharp, sharp teeth!

At the sight of this horrifying beast the kitten tried to turn around and run but the beast had hold of his tail and was pulling him back! He was going to die! His short life flashed before his eyes as he felt himself being dragged into the monsters jaws.

"Help me, spare me, save me," the kitten began to cry and lay there sobbing for several minutes before he realised he was, in fact, alive.

It wasn't a giant cat-eating monster mouse but another drenched and confused kitten. It was one of the older kittens too. He hated the older kittens. They teased him.

In a last ditch attempt to regain some dignity he tried to make himself look as mean and as big as possible. He failed; it just made the older kitten smirk.

Oh no...He now recognised the other kitten. It was that really smug, popular kitten with the daft name. The kitten hated the older one with a passion.

"What are you doing here," his companion asked.

"What are you doing here," the kitten stubbornly repeated. He wasn't going to be tricked into saying anything stupid.

"Quaxo, right? Bustopher's son?"

"Yeah," Quaxo replied meekly, shocked that the other knew who he was.

"You know who I am, of course."

Yeah, you're that cat who thinks so much of himself but is really just a big wet wimp, _was what Quaxo wanted to say he instead shook his head._

"What!" cried the older kitten. "I'm The Rum Tum Tugger!"

THE Rum Tum Tugger, as if there could be any other.

"Have we talked before, kid?"

Quaxo winced. He didn't like being called 'kid'. It was just another way of making him feel small.

"Yeah, you came and said Bomba...er...wanted to...I mean...she....er, loved...er...liked...you know," the kitten blushed.

On hearing this, Tugger snickered.

"Leave me alone," Quaxo muttered. He'd had enough of this kitten. Why was he sheltering in Quaxo's pipe? It wasn't fair.

"Where is Nimmo? You're usually stuck to her like glue."

At the mention of his sister's name the kittens face crumpled and he began to cry.

"What did I say?" said an uncomfortable Tugger. "Fine, I'm going."

Tugger began to head towards his human den.

Why had the kitten taken offense? He was just being friendly, keeping him company and taking an interest in his life. All he'd done was ask how Nimmo was.

"Everlasting Cat," he said under his breath as realisation dawned on him.

Quaxo was still sat in his pipe when Tugger reappeared.

"Look, calm down. What happened to Nimmo?"

"S-s-she's gone," the kitten hiccupped. "My human was putting stuff in boxes and-and I went away and w-when I came back they were both g-g-g-g..."

"Gone? Where?"

"I don't know!"

They sat in silence, the rain humming above them.

"Where do you live, kid?" Tugger asked quietly.

"Here."

"No human den?"

He shook his head.

"Everlasting Cat, kid," Tugger shook his head. "Can't you stay with your parents?"

"They're too busy with the kittens."

Quaxo's new siblings really_ annoyed him. The eldest, Victoria, had taken to hiding whenever she saw him. He'd know she was there due to the excessive amounts of giggling. The first time she'd done this it had been adorable and he'd been so proud of his newfound big brother status. The hundredth-million time she'd done this it wasn't so much cute as it was downright annoying. He wasn't even allowed to tell her this! It sucked to be nice and patient._

"You have no home," Tugger stated, his brow furrowed in thought. "Look, kid," he began, obviously embarrassed, "You could stay for a night in my human den.

Was THE_ Rum Tum Tugger offering to help? The Rum Tum Tugger, who was famous for his conceited nature, was allowing the kitten to stay in his human den? It had to be a joke! The kitten couldn't believe his ears. It was some kind of mystifying miracle._

"You follow my rules, Ok," Tugger added quickly. "What I say goes. Got it?"

"Yep!"

"Good. Remember, though, one night only."

Except it had lasted more than a night. The humans, excited at their find, had presented him to various other humans (one of whom, a man called Vet, had done unspeakable things to his nether regions) and given him his very own food bowl.

Tugger hadn't been quite so pleased but he'd grown to see the benefits of having another cat around...

However, both cats were ill at ease about the other Jellicles finding out. Misto knew if that were to happen then all the old jokes about his ambiguous sexuality would come out again. It was not that he found the jokes offensive, it just wasn't a topic he liked discussing. When he did, it always felt like they were trying to make his mind up for him.

Tugger didn't care about people joking about his own sexuality, in fact, he appeared to enjoy it. Whilst there was definitely no mystery surrounding his sexual orientation, it was clear he would take pleasure in the intrigue. He had once boasted of having been in a relationship with another tom. Whether it was true or not was beyond Misto but he was pretty certain it was just another attention seeking lie.

Misto didn't really know why Tugger was so worried about their secret being found out. He assumed it was because the Maine Coon did not want to be thought of as soppy.

There was only one cat who was allowed to know and that was Victoria. There was nothing she loved than keeping a secret so Misto told her everything...well, almost. She took full advantage of this particular secret, often coming to visit him with the strangest of excuses to see Tugger.

Misto was otherwise rather cautious when it came to others knowing his living arrangements. As he walked back with Tugger he was forever checking to make sure no other cat was nearby.

Today, however, Misto was too distracted. He felt nostalgic. It was the rush of wind in the trees and the roar wheels against wet roads. All his senses were alive, picking up things he had not felt since kittenhood. He felt oddly free, as if the strings tying him to his body had snapped. He allowed himself to wander back through time, dissecting each memory as he went.

_*Swish-swish*_

As Tugger walked his swung loosely from side to side.

*Swish-swish*

Tugger was talking and the kitten was trying so hard to listen...

*Swish-swish*

He was trying very hard to be polite...

*Swish-swish*

Very, very hard indeed...

*Swish-swish*

It was no use! He couldn't take his eyes off Tugger's tail.

*Swish-swish*

It was swaying in front of him...

*Swish-swish*

He had to avoid pouncing...

*Swish-swish*

Avoid pouncing...

*Swish-swish*

*Swish-swish*

*Swish-swish*

No, had to kill it, kill it, kill it!

"Off the tail," said a surprisingly patient Tugger.

Reluctantly the kitten let go.

"Sorry, I'm just really, really, REALLY _excited!" Quaxo squealed, running up alongside his newfound friend._

What would they do once they were there? What were the human family like? Would they like him? What did the human den look like? Did Tugger like playing hide and seek?

He couldn't keep still. It would be just like having Nimmo back.

They neared the human den. It was a house of average size with a straight, black door and smooth, creamy white walls. It was like any other plain, boring house and yet to Misto it was absolutely extraordinary....it was home. When he saw it for the first time he'd been so ecstatic he was literally bouncing all over the place. He had no idea then that it would become his home. If had known he would have jumped twice as much.

Tugger stopped suddenly. "You forgot to get their dinner."

"We both forgot."

It is a well known fact that humans cannot hunt for themselves. They, instead, rely on cats for their survival. Misto was all too happy to feed the hapless humans. It was, after all, one of the most important parts of having a human – you had to keep them alive. Misto also fed the woman across road. She had no cats and he was worried about her starving to death. It was just too sad.

Dinner caught, they entered the house and presented the humans with their catch. Misto smiled up at his humans as he watched their excitable reactions before heading off towards the food bowls. His was the black one with the name 'Harry' printed on it in large white letters. However, 'Harry' rarely ate out of his food bowl. By the time he got there Tugger was already gulping down some of the juicier morsels. Misto was used to this and was calmly resigned to eating out of the bowl labelled 'Fluffy'.

"When this was finished he would play with the children (the human version of kittens). Dorothy, who appeared to be the eldest, preferred nice quiet games whereas Lauren liked loud, violent games that usually involved fur, tail and ear puling. Both cats, especially Tugger, who was her favourite, were very wary of her.

Misto was currently in his secret place. He came here if he was bored, scared or just needed some time alone (spending so much time with Tugger was tough). This was the place where he came up with some of his best ideas for magic tricks. Conditions were perfect: comfy, relaxing, comforting and thought provoking – the best ingredients for a good idea...and a nice, long...snooze...

He was running, his heart thumping against his chest and fatigue straining his muscles. He had to find Nimmo. She was calling his name, her voice echoing around the walls of his mind. Where was she? He stumbled through endless corridors of some forgotten building until suddenly he was magically crawling across thin air towards a solitary window in the distance. His body trembled, he couldn't keep it up. He was going to fall. Then he saw it, a shadow in the window, a shadow of a cat...

If he could just keep his magic going for long enough then he could reach her...

He was close...mind numbingly close. His body grew cold and his breath caught in his throat. He was going to do it. Finally, he was going to save her. His skin tingled as he took one last step forwards.

Then it came upon him. It was a feeling of sickening heaviness, a feeling that sluggishly overtook his body. It started in his toes and travelled up through his limbs and torso, leaving his head feeling light and dizzy, as if it would just float away into the sinister vacuum surrounding him. Slowly, his mind was leaving him, only to be replaced by the throbbing blackness behind his eyes. Finally he was giving in...

He was falling...

Misto's eyes snapped open. He lay there for a few minutes as his mind adjusted itself to reality. Everlasting Cat, that dream again...it always left him in a state of persistent dread, which would be okay if he knew what exactly he was dreading. It was like being in a darkened room and knowing someone was behind you but having no way of seeing who. Well, perhaps that was exaggerating it a bit but in Misto's head it was just as worrying.

He lay there for awhile, listening to the rain pattering against a nearby window. The sound gently eroded his apprehension. Dreams were silly, confusing things; there was no need for him to get worked up. After all, by daybreak, it will be nothing but a vague memory.

He hadn't meant to sleep this long. It was just supposed to be a little nap but it was already the middle of the night.

"Let me in, let me in, let me in," came Tugger's cry, across the hall.

Misto stretched his stiff joints and creakily went to see what all the fuss was about. Tugger was scratching at the adult human's bedroom door. They had once again made the terrible mistake of locking it. Eventually, the frustrated looking human male opened the door. Tugger gave him a look of disdain and walked way.

Across the hall Lauren had also opened her door and was now calling for her '_favouritest kitty in all the world' _to come to her.

"She'd have to drag me out of the deepest pits of hell first," Tugger grandly remarked.

No matter how much he loved her Misto would have to agree. Last time he slept in her bed she'd drooled all over him. It was not something he'd like to suffer through again.

Instead, they decided to spend the night on the families new leather sofa.

"Let's see what's on the box," Tugger grinned, hitting random buttons on the remote.

"No! Don't you dare!" Misto cried, panicked.

He hated the magic-talking-picture box. There was no logic behind it. It was quite obviously magic but where was it coming from? Misto knew for a fact that anything with a mind of its own, like a car, was very evil indeed.

Eventually, Tugger gave up teasing him and both cats curled up to go to sleep

_It had been a good day, full of very fun games Quaxo had never played before. There had been the '_Sneak into the House Gam_e', the _'Steal Food Game_' and the_ 'Hiding Game'. _The best game had been the one where the humans found him and chased him all around the house, even though they hadn't played fair. There had been a boring part where the humans had just talked so he'd gone off to play with Tugger. He had decided that older kittens weren't so bad after all. It turns out that older kittens are just the same as younger kittens...except they're bigger._

The kitten yawned. It must be close to bed time, now. His eyelids were getting heavier and heavier. He tried blinking himself awake but that just made it worse.

"I want to go to bed," he moaned.

"Feel free," was the helpful response.

"Where is it?"

"Where is what?"

"The bed."

"My bed is in the kitchen. Sleep there if you want. I'll be on the sofa."

"You're allowed to sleep on the sofa," said Quaxo, his eyes widening at the news. "My old human got really angry if we even sat _on the sofa!"_

"I sleep wherever I please, kid."

"Wow! Where's the craziest place you've ever slept?"

"Under the car."

The kittens jaw dropped. "And you didn't die?!?"

Tugger just raised an eyebrow and headed off to the lounge. The kitten followed eagerly. As he jumped upon the couch, he felt a rush of adrenalin. He was a daredevil! He, Quaxo, was on the couch!

Suddenly unable to sleep, the kitten raced around the room several times before jumping onto the sofa killing a cushion.

"Happy now?" asked the older kitten, clearly amused.

"Yeah, yeah."

Finally ready to go to sleep, the kitten shuffled over to Tugger and snuggled up in his mane.

"What are you doing?"

The kitten looked up, startled. "Going to sleep."

"I can see that. I meant, why are you in my mane? Sleep over there, kid."

"Oh...Ok..."

"What is it, kid?"

"I...er...it's just that...well, me and Nimmo always slept next to each other...I can't sleep without her," Quaxo whispered.

Tugger looked up at the roof in desperation before saying, "Fine...just don't tell anyone...or mess up my mane."

"Ouch!"

Misto was rudely woken up in the early hours of the morning by Tugger kicking him in the head.

"Sorry, did I just kick you there?"

"Yes!"

"Accident."

_Fat chance,_ Misto thought grumpily.

"What is it, Tugger?"

"Nothing."

This meant Tugger was going to have a rant.

"Well, maybe there is something...a tiny something..."

"Go on, then."

"What you said earlier about me having a mate...you weren't being serious, were you?"

So that was it. He couldn't believe Tugger would get so upset over that. He assumed the Maine Coon would rather run a mile than buckle down to an everlasting monogamous relationship. Yet, somehow his comment had really gotten to Tugger and that could only mean one thing...

"You're in love!"

"Don't be ridiculous," Tugger scoffed.

"You love Bombalurina!"

The Maine Coon swatted at him but Misto jumped out of reach onto the back ledge of the sofa.

"Oh, Tugger, I really like you," cooed Misto in his best Bomba impression. "I want to kiss you all over. Oh, Tugger, oh, Tugger, I want to be your mate!"

He strutted along, copying her signature walk.

Tugger leapt at him and suddenly they were both on the floor. The Maine Coon was much bigger than Misto, who lay helplessly underneath him. He was never any good at fighting; he just struck out wildly, hoping Tugger would come to his senses.

CRASH!

The cats sprang apart, heckles raised.

"Thunder," said Tugger, scratching the back of his head. This was the closest Misto would get to an apology.

"I didn't realise it was still raining."

"It is."

Both cats laughed, embarrassed, before jumping back onto the couch.

"You really like her, huh."

Tugger just shrugged. "You like anyone?"

Misto paused. He could tell Tugger about the odd thoughts he's been having about one cat in particular...no, he wouldn't. It was probably nothing. He was probably just being silly. After all, he thought he liked someone before and how wrong had he been then.

"No, no one at all."

Tugger raised his eyebrows and for a moment Misto thought he was going to pursue the subject further, wheedle the true answer out of him but instead he let it lie. Inwardly, Misto gave a relieved sigh. When he was certain towards his feelings Tugger would be the first one he told...well, after Victoria anyway. Then both of them would give him loads of help and support (and probably lots of teasing) about initiating the first step.

"You should act fast, Tugger," Misto said quickly before Tugger could change his mind. "Pouncival comes of age this ball and plans to sweep Bomba off her feet."

"Like Etcetera plans to sweep me off mine?"

"Fair point," Misto laughed.

"Ok, kid, I need my beauty sleep. Sweet dreams."

"Mmm, yeah, goodnight."

Misto knew he wouldn't be able to sleep now. His mind was buzzing. He was no longer a kitten but he wasn't quite an adult. He was in that strange no-man's land where nothing was certain. It was an age where you still had the playful, mischievous nature of a kitten but the responsibilities of an adult. It wasn't a bad age, just a confusing one, where you were both looking fondly backwards and impatiently forwards.

_The morning light spread across the dusty living room. Quaxo still lay on the couch. He was in that blissful state of being only semi-awake and the hazy dreams of last night were still intermingling with reality._

Tugger sat by the window admiring his reflection. Licking his paw, he styled his hair.

"What do you think, kid."

"Pretty cool."

"You know, Quaxo, you're alright."

It was now Misto who sat at the window, staring out across his garden. Very soon Victoria would be dashing across with an excuse about her human locking her out or the house catching fire or the milkman being awfully late (there was no milkman). She'd then act surprised to see Tugger and the three would walk towards the Junkyard. Along the way they'd be joined be Victoria's mate, Plato, and his brother, Admetus. After that, Tugger would disappear to do whatever it was he did (Misto didn't dare ask), Victoria would go all giggly and Plato would bashfully peck her on the cheek, and Misto would spend the whole day avoiding Admetus, who, yet again, wanted help learning his lines for this year's performance in the ball.

Tugger let out a loud groan. He had fallen off the settee and now lay, still asleep, in a particularly ungraceful position on the floor.

"Wakey, wakey, eggs and bakey," Misto sang cheerfully.

Tugger growled something incomprehensible into the floor and swatted at Misto with his tail.

"You know, Tugger," beamed Misto as he watched Victoria skipping across fences to meet them, "you're alright."


	3. Naughty Words For a Little Kitten

**Sorry this chapter's short but I don't have much time to write this week and next week I'm on holiday. Hopefully, it's better than nothing!**

Big thanks to my brother, who has helped a lot with this chapter.

"No, Tugger loves me more!"

"Na ah, he loves me and I have proof – a lock of his mane!"

"Where is it?"****

"At home...in a secret place..."

"Sorry, guys, he's mine," smiled Bomba as she moved through the mob of kittens and eased herself onto the car bumper.

Jennyanydots and Jellylorum, who were the kittens' usual carers, were currently too involved with the ball to care for the kittens so a kitten-sitting rota had been devised. Every day for the next three months (there was a lot to prepare for this year) the kittens would be looked after by one of the other responsible adults (e.g. anyone but Tugger).

Today was Bomba's turn. She didn't mind looking after the kittens; it was a waste of time but all the sunbathing was giving her fur a nice sun streaked look and the kittens were amusing enough. She could even cope with their Tugger related boasts; some of them were lies and the ones that were true...well, she was just as bad.

No, what was truly annoying her was that Tugger, in one of his sweeter moods, had promised he'd keep her company and it was now late in the afternoon and he was nowhere to be seen. She should have known better than to rely on him. Playing with her and teasing her was one thing but letting her down was completely different. Next time she saw him she'd punish him for being such a naughty boy. She'd show him she wasn't some kitten he could drop as he pleased (she still had bruises from last year's ball).

Bomba began plotting and silently developing more and more ingenious plans to teach the careless cat a lesson. Now and again she'd be distracted by kittens mischievously pouncing on her, moaning to her or asking her to tell them a story about a princess named Electra, who could talk to dragons and rescue handsome princes and never have to help tidy her den.

One kitten who wasn't currently trying to grab Bomba's attention was Pouncival. He lay, with his head resting on his head resting on his paws, slightly further away from the other kittens. Right at the beginning of the day he'd been over her like the rest, vying for her attention with somersaults and handstands. Now, all he wanted to do was watch her, take in her glory...she was like a goddess... no, goddesses were like her...she was something more than a goddess. Was there something more than a goddess? A super goddess or a mega goddess? Or even a super-ultra-mega goddess? Anyway, she deserved to be elegantly draped over a cloud, not a rusted car. It just wasn't right...

One day she'd see how brilliant they were together. He could teach her how to do all sorts of great things like how to do a triple backwards flip and somersault with your eyes closed, and the best way to scare someone (it worked – Plato would never looked at shoes the same way again) and how to find Etcetera's secret cat-nip stash. Plus, she could teach him stuff like...um...he didn't really know what she could teach him but he was sure it would be mind-blowing and very grown-up.

Tumblebrutus walked over to Pounce and nudged him with his paw. "It's time, bud. She's in a right mood with Tugger so make your move now!"

"Cool, thanks."

"Good luck."

Pounce sauntered, in a Tugger like fashion, over to the queen of his dreams.

"You look like you're constipated," tittered Etcetera.

"Well, you look like the BUM of a rat I ate yesterday," he retaliated.

"What?"

"Exactly. _Stupid queen-kittens,_" he muttered under his breath.

Still undeterred Pounce made his way to Bomba and leaned casually against the car.

"Hi, sex bomb."

Damn, that had sounded better in his head.

"Those are naughty words for a little kitten," said Bomba, her breath tickling his ear.

"Well, I'm a naughty _CAT," _he smugly replied.  
__

She reached over and, for a moment, he thought she was going to play with his fur like she did with Tugger's mane but she just playfully ruffled the fur on the top of his head. Still, it was only a small step between ruffling and playing.

"So, Bomba, I was thinking, are you free tonight? Cause there's this new restaurant near my human den and it has a _huge _open bin outside. So, are you free? It's really, uh...romantic."

"Sorry, hon, I'm busy," said Bomba apologetically.

"Oh, that's cool, "He said nonchalantly, hiding his disappointment.

They watched the other kittens playing. Tumble had just jumped upon Electra and Etcetera, and bashed their heads together. Not about to let him get away with it, the two queen-kittens pounced and, with the help of Jemima, pummelled him to a pulp.

"They're really immature," Pounce sighed, shaking his head.

"I think it's cute," Bomba said with a wink.

"Oh."

He flashed her a quick grin before taking out all three queen-kittens in one foul swoop. What followed was a faceoff between the tom-kittens and the queen kittens.

"I can't believe they'll be coming of age soon," chuckled Misto as he passed by.

"Not so long ago you were just like them."

"Hey! You're not that much older than me."

"Of course not."

"So where's is Tugger? I thought he was going to help you?"

"Yes, so did I," she scowled.

"Do you want me to turn his fur pink again?"

"No, I've got the perfect punishment in mind."

"Don't go easy on him," Misto grinned as he jumped away."

The queen-kittens were just about winning the fight when Victoria came dashing out towards them.

"Vicky!" Etcetera squealed.

The queen-kittens ran towards their friend. As soon as they reached each other they all began talking at once. Tumble and Pounce rolled their eyes.

"How do they understand each other?"

"Beats me."

Victoria had been busy practising her second Mating Dance. If a couple want to be officially recognised as True-Mates they must dance in the 'Engagement Mating Dance'. After that the couple live as mates for a year and then on the next ball, if they feel ready, they perform the 'True-Mates Dance'. Afterwards, they exchange collars and, as a sign of trust, inform each other of their third names. They are then officially recognised as mates for the rest of eternity. As this is permanent, many wait year or two more before making such a big decision.

Now days, if you did not need to go through the ceremony to be recognised as mates. The dance was now just a romantic gesture. Indeed, in Bomba's generation only a few had undergone the ritual dance. However, it was an integral part of the ball and it was vital that each year one couple went through one of the Mating Dances. Usually, this role was just left to Jenny and Skimbleshanks to repeat their original dance.

Luckily for them a new generation had become infatuated with the idea.

"It's more wonderful than last year," Victoria gushed. "Rumpleteazer has given me this beautiful collar – It has diamonds!"

"It's probably stolen," Pouncival huffed.

The others ignored him.

"It's just like a fairytale, Vic," Jemima smiled.

"When I do the Mating Dance it'll be more amazing than anything anyone has ever seen in the world, ever – there'll be fireworks!" Etcetera declared, staring off into the distance.

Actually, no, on closer inspection, Pounce saw she was staring in the direction of Tugger's den. Bomba, who had also noticed, threw a pebble at her. Etcetera whizzed around and gave her 'rival' a deathly stare. Bomba just smiled.

"Hehehe, when I, heh, get, hahaha," Electra began. "It's going to be so, hehahahe, I mean, it's, ha-"

"I'm never going to have a mate," interrupted an impatient Tumble.

"Why not?" gasped Victoria.

"Because it's icky and soppy and girly, duh."

He only escaped another beating by the timely arrival of Plato. The True-Mates to-be nuzzled each other. Their greeting was met by a chorus of 'aahs' from the queen-kittens, and the tom-kittens pretending to throw up.

Before Plato could say a word Admetus had come crashing down from the sky...well, a nearby junk pile. He grinned sheepishly before turning the junkyard upside down with his frantic searching.

"What are you looking?" said a slightly exasperated Plato.

"Misto."

"I don't think you'll find him in a teacup."

"It's worth a try."

"I'll help you learn your lines," Etcetera helpfully volunteered.

"No!" he cried. "No offence, Cetty, it's just no one does it like him."

Plato shot his brother a curious look.

"What do you think of mating...I...I...I mean, the, hehe, Mating Dance, Tugger," Etcetera giggled breathlessly.

"I'll tell you when you're older," he winked slyly at Etcetera causing her to burst into mad, uncontrollable laughter.

Bomba's jaw tightened. How long had he been there? He better have a damn-good excuse for letting her down.

"Ow!"

Admetus had, yet again, fallen flat on his face.

"If you're looking for Misto he's cowering behind my den," Tugger informed him.

Admetus was off like a light. After a silent pause there was a thump and a short, rude exclamatory.

"Ooh," all the kittens chimed in unison.

"What does that mean, Bomba," questioned Jemima innocently.

"It means don't tell your Mummy or she'll tan my hide for not covering your ears."

Whilst the kittens were distracted with their new favourite word, Tugger pulled Bomba close.

"Sorry, I'm late, kitten. Ready for tonight?"

Bomba stretched and yawned, breaking Tugger's grasp.

"Can't talk now, Tugs; I'm a _very _busy queen. Pounce has just promised to show me some very stylish new delicacies and well...how could I refuse."

And taking an ecstatic Pounce by the arm she left the junkyard, leaving a slack jawed Tugger in her wake.

"I said I was sorry! Wait, come back...Please don't leave me holding the kittens, Bomba!"

He had only a moment to recall Misto's warning about Pouncival before he was swamped by his eager fan club.


End file.
